


Tastes So Sweet

by Fallen_Angel_Meg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Birthday Sex, Blindfolds, Bottom Castiel, Coming Untouched, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food Sex, Husbands, M/M, Sub Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9924494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Angel_Meg/pseuds/Fallen_Angel_Meg
Summary: While Dean tries to brush off that day dedicated to him once a year, Castiel ensures he has a good birthday. This year is no different. He'll do everything he can to make Dean's day special. So if Dean wants to try something new to satisfy his sweet tooth, Castiel's the last one to object.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fandom Writing Challenge [February 2017]  
> Theme: Food & Drink  
> Prompt: Whipped Cream
> 
> ~Thank you to my lovely beta, [Naomi](http://adoringjensen.tumblr.com), for everything you do and helping me out with the title ♥

Skin tingling. Heart racing. Anticipation and impatience thrumming.  
  
No. Not impatience. Dean always tells Castiel to be patient, but he can’t help it. How can he not get excited whenever Dean is involved? Sometimes Dean finds it amusing and lets him push his limits, but today is not the day for that.  
  
Today is not about Castiel. It’s about Dean. Still…  
  
He spares a moment to make sure the blue tie fashioned around his neck is straight and flattened of any wrinkles. It’s the only piece of clothing on his body, so it better look presentable. He places his hands neatly on his thighs, careful not to touch his stiff cock and sits up straighter.  
  
“Okay Cas, you got that blindfold on?” Dean calls from somewhere down the hall.  
  
Castiel freezes, eyes widening at the question. Shit. All this waiting he’s been doing and he didn’t even remember to complete all of Dean’s instructions. He’d been distracted with what they’re about to do and – fuck.  
  
“Uhh –“  
  
He scrambles to the edge of the bed and rifles through the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Unable to see through the candlelit dimness of the room, he feels around until the familiar silk brushes his fingertips. He grabs it up and closes the drawer quietly before moving to kneel, once again, in the center of the bed, sitting back on his heels. Placing the silk fabric against his eyes, his fingers make quick work of securing the mask in place.  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Each sound of Dean’s footsteps against the wood flooring in the hallway sends a thrill through Castiel’s body. Belatedly, he remembers that his tie must be disorderly from his frantic stir. No, he can’t look anything other than perfect for Dean. With Dean’s footsteps getting louder, he makes the decision to feel along the tie and ensure it’s centered and smoothed against his chest. The creak of the door opening makes his hands immediately drop back to his thighs, heart racing in his chest. Maybe Dean didn’t see him fidgeting. Maybe he made it just in time.  
  
“Fifteen minutes, Cas.” Yeah, Dean caught him. “I gave you fifteen minutes to get prepared. And knowing you, you spent twelve of those minutes waiting impatiently, didn’t you?”  
  
Castiel swallows, guilt washing through his body. “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
The door closes with a click and Dean crosses the room until Castiel can feel his presence in front of the bed. Possibly close enough for Castiel to touch. He can’t though.  
  
“The question I asked only requires a yes or no answer.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“Yes what?”  
  
Castiel refrains from ducking his head. “Yes, I was impatient.”  
  
Dean tuts, fingers brushing along the length of his tie. “Not ready on time nor were you patient. That’s two strikes, Cas.”  
  
“Are you going to punish me, sir?” he asks hesitantly. Dammit, they’ve barely started and already Castiel could already be up for punishment. This is not how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be good for Dean.  
  
“You know the answer,” Dean tells him, making Castiel’s heart sink. “But I’ll let it go this once.”  
  
And just like that, Castiel lets out a silent breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”  
  
Soft fingers feel their way up Castiel’s tie, trailing up his neck and along his jaw. “This isn’t a free pass for the whole night. I expect you to follow my instructions. I don’t want to have to punish you, Cas.”  
  
Castiel nods, careful not to dislodge Dean’s touch from his skin. “I’ll be good, sir.”  
  
He’s met with silence, Dean’s fingers sliding along his jawline until they cup around the side of his face. Castiel can’t help but lean into the touch and it takes every ounce of energy not to turn and press a kiss into that palm.  
  
“C’mere,” Dean commands rather softly. Castiel complies by scooting towards the edge of the bed. Even though he’s not touching Dean beside the contact against his cheek, Castiel can practically feel those last few inches between them crackle with electricity.  
  
Dean tilts Castiel’s face upwards and a heartbeat later, there are soft lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. Castiel’s eyes flutter closed despite the blindfold covering them. Dean then moves to the other corner and presses a kiss there. Then his forehead where the edge of the blindfold sits. And once on each cheek, also where his skin and the black silk meet. And finally, _finally_ , Dean gives him what he’s been silently pleading for. Pulling him up just a little, Dean presses a gentle kiss to Castiel’s lips. Castiel returns the kiss just as softly, not daring to push his limits. It last for several heartbeats, but it never goes farther than the tender slide of lips against lips. When Dean pulls away, Castiel makes sure not to outwardly pout.  
  
“So beautiful, angel,” he whispers.  
  
Castiel’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the praise. He’s far from deserving, given he’s screwed up twice already this evening, but the words don’t mean any less to him.  
  
“Since you insisted on doing something special today, I picked us up a little treat. Did you figure out what it is?”  
  
Thank goodness for the blindfold because if Castiel wasn’t wearing it, Dean would’ve probably seen the tiniest hint of an eye roll. At dinner, Dean mentioned trying something different tonight. Castiel was dying to know what it was, especially with how excited Dean looked. But of course, Dean wouldn’t tell him. Instead, he’d drop little hints. Too bad Castiel couldn’t figure out the common denominator between pie, coffee, ice cream, waffles, pudding, strawberries and hot chocolate.  
  
What on earth could be used with strawberries and coffee? Or even waffles for that matter?  
  
Castiel shakes his head. “I still stand by my answer of chocolate sauce, sir.”  
  
Dean snorts. “Cas, I told you it’s not –“ He takes a breath and Castiel’s lips twitch trying to withhold a smile. He was driving Dean crazy by insisting chocolate sauce was the only commonality that seemed to work for most of them, even if some didn’t make sense. “Open your mouth.”  
  
Castiel obeys and a moment later, something soft brushes against Castiel’s upper lip as he closes his mouth around Dean’s finger, tongue lapping up the fluffy substance perched on it. It’s sweet and light, quickly melting in the heat of his mouth.  
  
Whipped cream.  
  
Now it makes sense. How had he not thought of whipped cream earlier? Humming at the pleasant taste, he sucks on Dean’s finger, tongue swiping over the skin to ensure every little bit has been cleaned off.  
  
Dean chuckles, withdrawing his finger. “Tastes good, huh?”  
  
Castiel nods, tongue swiping over the cream smudged on his lip. A low growl sounds from Dean’s throat, making Castiel’s cock twitch against his stomach. He loves knowing the affect he has on Dean.  
  
“Open.”  
  
Once again, Castiel opens his mouth to Dean and the hand still resting on his cheek tilts his head up, bending his neck at a near ninety degree angle.  
  
“Wider.”  
  
He complies.  
  
“Keep your mouth open and don’t move. It’s my turn to taste.”  
  
Castiel gives a small nod to acknowledge he understands and a second later, the sound of whipped cream escaping the can sounds loudly in the quiet room while thick sweetness fills his mouth. He breathes out evenly through his nose to keep from choking on the cream, which proves to be difficult when Dean leans in close and licks away some of it from his mouth.  
  
“Mmm,” Dean hums before dipping down again to lap up more, tongue lightly teasing along Castiel’s lips with each taste. He obediently stays still while Dean has his way with the cream, swallowing down every moan that threatens to escape him when Dean nips at his lips or flicks his tongue against Castiel’s.  
  
“Swallow the rest,” Dean murmurs, sweetened breath ghosting over Castiel’s lips. Without a bit of hesitation, Castiel gladly swallows what Dean didn’t claim. Just as he swipes a tongue over his lips to make sure no trace was left, Dean moves the hand against his cheek down to his tie, winding it around his knuckles before abruptly pulling Castiel closer.  
  
“Tell me how it tasted, angel,” Dean growls before those beautiful lips hungrily press against Castiel’s, the softness of their previous kiss gone. It only takes the mere brush of Dean’s tongue against the seam of his lips for Castiel to open up, inviting Dean into his mouth and letting him take what he wants. Castiel whimpers, hands itching to touch Dean and pull him close. Even more than that though, he wants to press back and really taste the sweetness of Dean’s tongue and mouth. But he remains in his kneeled position, molding to however Dean wants him.  
  
It seems like whole minutes go by before Dean pulls back and with labored breaths, Castiel is able to finally respond to the question. “So good. It tasted so sweet – tastes even better on your tongue, sir.”  
  
Dean groans quietly, his grip on Castiel’s tie tightening. Just when he thinks Dean’s going to ravage his mouth again, the pressure on his neck disappears. Dean makes quick work of undoing the knot at Castiel’s throat and sliding the tie from around his neck.  
  
“Hands out.”  
  
Castiel wants to protest the instruction because this is torture. All he wants to do it touch Dean. Undress him. Smooth his hands down that beautiful skin. Anything. Instead, he begrudgingly crosses one wrist over the other and offers them to his dom.  
  
“Now, now,” Dean murmurs, a smirk in his voice. “This isn’t punishment, but a warning. I may have excused your behaviors earlier, but what message would that send if I let you go scot free?” Castiel knows the question is rhetorical, so he remains quiet while the tie is worked intricately around his wrists. “This warning’s to remind that should you disobey again tonight, I will punish you if needed. Is that clear?”  
  
With one final tug, Dean tightens the knot to secure Castiel’s bind. When he tries to move his hands experimentally, he’s satisfied with the snug fit, not too tight for discomfort. Lifting his chin to where he guesses Dean’s eyes would be, he nods.  
  
“I understand, sir.”  
  
“Good. Lay back, legs spread.”  
  
Given his hands are bound together, Castiel makes awkward work sliding his legs from under him and leaning back, stomach muscles straining so he doesn’t flop back ungracefully. How sexy would that look? After wiggling his body to get comfortable, he dutifully spreads his legs, skin prickling at the vulnerable nature of the position. But it’s fine because this is Dean. He is Dean’s.  
  
The bed dips around Castiel and the tip of Dean’s tie tickles along the length of his leaking cock, continuing up his stomach as Dean hovers over him, knees framing his hips while Dean’s left hand rests beside Castiel’s head to hold himself up. He imagines how they must look – Castiel spread out across the bed with Dean’s body probably inches above him.  
  
Just when Castiel’s wondering what Dean could be up to next, there’s the feather touch of Dean’s right hand on his hip. Castiel minutely lifts his hip to get more contact, but Dean pulls away so his fingertips are scarcely touching. Castiel wants to growl out of frustration, desperate for touch, but he stills his movements. Besides, the more he pushes his boundaries, the less likely Dean will give him what he wants.  
  
“Good,” Dean barely whispers and Castiel’s rewarded with Dean’s hand pressed against his skin, firm but gentle. A shudder ripples through him the moment Dean’s hand makes its way upwards, fingers spreading over his skin, thumb caressing soothingly as it goes. Dean maintains the contact until his fingers bump into Castiel’s bound wrists and, taking a hold of them, he guides them back until they’re resting against the covers above Castiel’s head.  
  
“Can I count on you to keep your arms in this spot?” Dean asks, nipping at the tender skin of Castiel’s now exposed tricep.  
  
Castiel takes a steady breath. “Yes, sir.”  
  
Dean hums his approval before sitting back, causing Castiel to whimper and jerk his hips upwards. With Dean straddling his hips, Castiel’s cock is trapped between his stomach and Dean’s weight. The slacks aren’t too rough against his skin, but it provides enough friction that can be felt even without extra movements and Castiel so badly wants to grind up into Dean’s body.  
  
“Remember, keep those hands where they are,” Dean reminds him, an amused note to his stern reminder. “And no moving those hips without my permission.”  
  
Taking a careful breath, Castiel tries to ignore the warmth of Dean’s body on his cock, the delicious pressure making it throb. “I won’t, sir,” he assures. The atmosphere around them seems to still, but he can feel Dean’s eyes roaming hungrily over his stretched out body.  
  
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” Dean whispers. Castiel’s body tingles with the praise that he wants to shy away from, but he remains still.  
  
“I’m yours, Dean,” he murmurs in response. “All yours.”  
  
For a moment, Castiel hears Dean’s breathing stutter before he shifts, as if reaching for something. Castiel’s mind starts to think of what Dean could possibly be reaching for, but any thoughts dissipate from his mind when cold metal is pressed against his right nipple. Castiel gasps, arms twitching to shield himself but he quickly corrects himself.  
  
“Sorry, it’s a little cold,” Dean says, voice completely unapologetic.  
  
Castiel can only whimper as Dean rolls the curved metal – which he guesses is the can of whipped cream – over his nipple. When the sensation disappears, he hardly has a second before the chilled can is pressed against his other nipple. He wiggles, torn between wanting more and wanting to dislodge the cold from his skin. Thankfully, Dean doesn’t spend too long teasing before taking the can away from his body, but he does spare two fingers to tweak a nipple between, causing Castiel to shudder and groan.  
  
“I’m not sure I’ve had my fill of dessert yet, angel. Mind if I have another taste?”  
  
The sound of whipped cream is no surprise to Castiel, but what does take him a bit off guard is the way Dean swirls a dollop of the stuff on each nipple. Perhaps he should’ve seen it coming though. Without wasting any more time, Dean leans down and laps up the cream, tongue teasing at the hard nub as he does.  
  
Castiel’s breathing hitches in his throat with each pass of Dean’s tongue, but he can’t contain the groan that escapes him when Dean’s mouth latches on, teeth grazing the nipple before sucking softly.  
  
“Dean,” Castiel chokes out, the skin becoming impossibly sensitive.  
  
His meek plea doesn’t get acknowledged as Dean moves to the other nipple to lick away the sweetness, tongue alternating between circling and flicking. And just as the he did with the other, Dean nips and sucks once the cream’s been cleaned off and Castiel is finding it increasingly difficult to stay still underneath him.  
  
“Taste so fucking good, Cas. Should always eat whipped cream off your body.” And with that, a trail of whipped cream gets drawn down the inside of his arms, starting at bend in his elbows and ending on his shoulder. Once Dean’s satisfied with his work, he leans down to ravage the cream from Castiel’s skin. The shift in Dean’s posture causes his hard cock to press against Castiel’s aching one, his heart jumping in his chest.  
  
“Please, sir,” Castiel moans out, body shaking with the need for any sort of friction against his cock. “I n-need…”  
  
Licking his way down Castiel’s arm, Dean pauses at his shoulder to nip harder at the skin, coaxing another whimper from him. “Tell me what you want, angel.”  
  
“You,” he gasps. “Please. Want to feel your cock.”  
  
Dean chuckles darkly, moving to trace his tongue along Castiel’s parted lips before starting on the other arm. “You’ll get my cock if you’re good and stay still.” Castiel nods frantically in response, making sure his hands are still in place above his head and his hips aren’t responding on their own accord to the pressure on his cock. Just when he thinks he has a grip on himself, Dean starts slowly grinding his hips, his hard erection dragging against Castiel’s through his slacks.  
  
“Fuck!” Castiel cries out, body jerking upwards in response to the overwhelming pleasure that shoots through his veins.  
  
The outcry earns him a sharp nip to his arm. “I said stay _still_.”  
  
“S-sorry, sir,” he breathes out and Dean continues sucking his way down Castiel’s arm, teeth grazing the skin as he goes. His hips don’t stop either. They’re moving torturously slow against Castiel’s cock, leaving him as nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess. Dean only pauses the movement when he feels around for the can and decorates Castiel’s collarbones with whipped cream.  
  
Dean’s hips start their teasing rut once again as he sets the can aside, lips and tongue going to work on Castiel’s collarbones. Stifled whimpers squeeze out of his throat, Dean’s name occasionally moaned as he sucks more deliberately at the skin. Besides his hipbones, Dean has a fascination with Castiel’s collarbones, taking every opportunity to pay special attention to them. No doubt there will be a trail of beautiful red marks that Castiel will admire in the mirror tomorrow.  
  
By the time Dean’s finished licking away the cream from his collarbones, the black silk of the blindfold is wet with tears as a result of teetering so close to the edge. Dean hasn’t let up the agonizingly slow drag of his cock. The rub of the material’s made the skin beyond sensitive and the sheer need to be touched or fucked, or both, is becoming overwhelming to the point Castiel feels like exploding. Nevertheless, he keeps his arms above his head, his hips still, and his patience in check.  
  
This is for Dean. Dean deserves this. Castiel wants to be good for Dean. He trusts Dean to take care of him. Dean always does.  
  
When Dean sits upright once more, Castiel wants to cry out from how good it feels to get a break, but he also aches for Dean to keep going.  
  
“Christ, angel,” Dean breaths, fingers brushing with a feather-like touch over Castiel’s collarbones. “I wish you could see yourself right now. So fucking beautiful.”  
  
A couple more tears squeeze from the corners of his eyes, caught by the silk. The warmth of Dean’s praise is washed away though the moment his weight leaves his body, the cool air crawling over his skin. He bites back his protests, swallowing down the emptiness that flows around him now.  
  
This is what he doesn’t like about being blindfolded sometimes. He loves every feeling being magnified with the removal of his sight, but having no contact whatsoever - he might as well be a deserted island a million miles from the closest living soul with how far away he feels. He craves Dean’s touch, feels grounded by it.  
  
“Open yourself up, angel.”  
  
A relieved breath slips from between Castiel’s lips. Dean’s voice is still close by, probably standing at the foot of the bed. As much as Castiel loves Dean’s fingers stretching him open, this is his time to put on a show. He knows Dean’s watching his every move, and Castiel’s determined to make him regret ever leaving the bed.  
  
When he lowers his arms from their position above his head, he brings his hands to his mouth to suck on two fingers. It takes some strange twisting to get them in his mouth, but he’s able to get them adequately slicked so that it won’t burn too much. Bending his knees and spreading his legs wider, he twists his wrists in the tie so his fingers have better access. He can’t help but tease himself a little, circling the tight muscle with a spit-slicked finger, but honestly, this is mostly to tease Dean. His dom never gave explicit instructions on how he should open himself up, just that he do.  
  
“Castiel,” Dean warns curtly after several moments of him brushing his fingers over his hole. He resists smiling at the hoarseness in Dean’s voice and submits to the warning. He pushes one finger inside, letting out a breathy moan as he does. The movement is slow, mostly because of the awkward way his wrists are bound together, but it’s better than no touch at all.  
  
“Add another,” Dean instructs after a minute. Castiel doesn’t hesitate to introduce the second finger, groaning at tightness. It feels so good but so unsatisfying at the same time. He loves being filled, even if it is just his own fingers, but they can’t go as deep as they could. And to put it simply – they’re not Dean. The frustrating combination of feelings has Castiel fucking his fingers harder into himself, stretching his rim wider as he does.  
  
A moan rumbles from Dean’s throat. “Just like that, angel.”  
  
“Sir, please –“ Castiel cuts himself off with a groan, the image of Dean standing at the foot of the bed, stroking himself as he watches Castiel’s fingers work themselves in and out of his clenching hole flashing through his mind. “Please. Want you so bad. Want to feel you inside me, filling me up. Want to make you feel so good, sir. I want to be yours.”  
  
A soft curse is breathed out as the bed dips around Castiel once again and all too quickly, his hands are being pulled away from his body, choking out a sob at the loss of his fingers.  
  
“Lift your head.”  
  
The authority in the command has Castiel shuddering, drops of pre-come leaking onto his stomach and he manages to lift his spinning head as much as he can. Dean uses one hand to hold Castiel’s bound wrists above his head once more and the other fumbles with the knot of the blindfold. It takes him a few tries, but then the soft, dampened silk goes slack before being tossed to the side.  
  
The dim candlelight gives the room a soft glow, enough for Castiel to make out Dean’s lust blown eyes staring down at him as he blinks his open.  
  
“Dean,” he breathes, heart jumping at the beauty of him.  
  
Dean cuts him off with a rough kiss that Castiel parts his lips eagerly for when Dean’s tongue brushes at them. He moans into Dean’s mouth, back arching off the bed in a desperate attempt for more contact. But, like before, Dean maintains enough space between them so the only contact is what Dean wants there to be. And far too soon, Dean pulls away from the kiss.  
  
“You already are mine, Castiel,” he growls. “There’s no one else who is to me what you are.”  
  
Castiel stares up at him, throat growing tight at the words. It’s all he ever wants to hear. He is Dean’s. Just like Dean is his.  
  
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers.  
  
Everything. He wants to give Dean everything.  
  
“You,” Dean answers hoarsely. “You’ve been so good, angel. Gonna give you what you want, too.”  
  
And if Castiel needed any hints as to what Dean was going to do next, he reaches down to stroke his cock a couple times, fingers becoming shiny with the lube he must’ve coated himself with while Castiel was prepping himself. That’s also when Castiel notices Dean’s lack of clothing, and it makes the want burning low in his stomach flare up. He’s brought back to himself though when Dean rubs his fingers over Castiel’s entrance to slick him up properly.  
  
Getting a better grip on Castiel’s wrists, Dean holds him firmly to the bed as he lines himself up and presses the head of his cock inside. They both moan in unison, Dean’s eyes fluttering shut as he slowly sinks deeper while Castiel’s arms jerk automatically to wrap themselves around Dean, but they’re held still by a strong hand. Castiel’s breathing comes quicker the farther he goes. Two fingers are definitely not enough to prep him for Dean’s size, but the stretch is glorious.  
  
Once Dean’s fully sheathed inside, he gives a few tiny, experimental thrusts right against Castiel’s prostate, making him gasp and clench around Dean’s thick cock.  
  
“Oh _fuck_ ,” Dean’s breathing catches in his throat and a spark is set off. He pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in, making Castiel’s body jerk at the rough movement. He barely has a second to recover from the blinding pleasure before Dean sets a hard but steady pace.  
  
“You’ll come when I say you can,” Dean says firmly in between each body jerking thrust. Castiel moans his assent, forgetting that he should be addressing his dom properly and it earns him a tight squeeze against his wrists, making them crush together painfully. “Is that clear?”  
  
“Y-yes, s-sir,” Castiel pants out as clearly as he can, though Dean’s thrusts make it so his voice stutters. It’s enough for Dean though and his hips speed up after the acknowledgement. After so many years of being together, it’s no surprise Dean’s already angled himself to hit Castiel’s prostate with each roll of his hips, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Castiel fights to keep his eyes open, keeping them locked on Dean’s because he knows how much Dean loves eye contact. Even when it’s taking every bit of self-control not to come right now, he stares up into Dean’s eyes, taken by how they can look so hungry but so affectionate at the same time. Looking at him like he’s desperate to hold onto the most precious thing in the world.  
  
A string of praise is murmured to Castiel, the words practically lost in Dean’s labored breathing and Castiel’s desperate moans. Damn – he’s so fucking close. It’s getting increasingly difficult to stave off his orgasm and he wants to beg for Dean to let him come, but he remains patient.  
  
“Love the sounds you make for me, angel. Love seeing those beautiful eyes looking at me. You’re –“ Dean cuts himself off with a drawn out groan that Castiel echoes. “You’re fucking amazing, Cas.”  
  
“Dean,” Castiel pants out, feeling as if he’s about to tip over the edge. Oh god – don’t let go yet. Just – just keep holding on –  
  
“Come for me, Cas.”  
  
Those four deliberate words are all it takes for Castiel to give into the blinding pleasure. His orgasm has him arching off the bed, pulling at Dean’s grip that keeps him still as warm ropes of white shoot up his chest. He’s so distracted by the waves of after-shock, body shuddering, that he doesn’t realize Dean’s pulled out until he’s coming on Castiel’s stomach, lips parted as a beautiful moan drips from them.  
  
Dean’s arms are shaking under his weight, but he doesn’t collapse. Instead, he carefully lowers himself to lick away all traces of come on Castiel’s stomach and chest. The gentle, feather touch of Dean’s tongue has Castiel trembling, the sensation overwhelming after such an intense orgasm, but it still feels heavenly.  
  
“Tastes so sweet,” Dean breathes against his skin, pressing a tender kiss to his stomach before sitting up. He pulls Castiel up into a sitting position too, hands gentle as if he was made of glass, and unwinds the tie from around his wrists. Castiel breathes a soft sigh, relieved to stretch out his stiff joints.  
  
“Let me,” Dean murmurs, taking one of Castiel’s bruising wrists in his hands and massaging it. A weak moan escapes him, eyes fluttering closed at the touch. There’s a quiet chuckle and when Castiel opens his eyes, he finds Dean’s soft gaze focused on him, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “You were so good for me, Cas.”  
  
Castiel returns the smile lazily, sleep starting to take hold of his pleasantly aching body. “You deserved it. You deserve everything.”  
  
Despite the dim lighting, the blush that darkens Dean’s cheeks is still evident and he focuses his attention back on massaging Castiel’s other wrist. “I’ll go start the bath, okay? Just stay here and I’ll -”  
  
Castiel grabs onto Dean’s wrist before he can withdraw from the bed. “No, wait – please, Dean? Can we skip the bath this once? I – I don’t think I can stay awake too much longer and… I’d rather stay in bed with you.”  
  
Dean frowns. “But Cas, you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow. You know I don’t like skipping-“  
  
“I know, I know. Just this once? I don’t want you to focus on me – not today.”  
  
That unhappy look is still resting on Castiel, just as he was expecting. Dean always makes sure to pamper him after their scenes, whether it was intense or not. But Castiel’s completely positive that once he gets into that warm bath with Dean’s body pressed against his back, he won’t be awake more than five minutes. He doesn’t want Dean to go through the hassle of getting him out, drying him, and carrying him to bed. Of course Dean wouldn’t care, but that’s not how today is supposed to go. It’s supposed to be about Dean.  
  
“Alright, here’s what we’ll do –“ Castiel perks up at that, “You’re going to stay in bed while I go get a few things. I’ll just be a minute, okay?”  
  
Castiel nods and Dean pulls him in for a quick kiss before crawling off the bed and disappearing from the bedroom. Castiel uses the opportunity to stretch his arms and gather the can of whipped cream and lube to set them both on the nightstand. By the time he has the covers and pillows situated right, Dean returns with a washcloth in one hand, a glass of water in the other, and a bottle of lotion tucked under his arm.  
  
“You know where I want ya,” Dean says, holding out the glass of water to him. Castiel accepts the cup and makes room for Dean to crawl into bed before settling in between his legs, the same position they’d be in if they were in the tub.  
  
Without needing to be told, Castiel sips at the water while Dean smooths the washcloth over his skin wherever he can reach. It’s warm and damp, soothing over the bites and bruises, wiping away the miniscule residue of sweat, come, and whipped cream. Once Dean’s satisfied with his cleaning, he squeezes a decent amount of lotion in his hands and massages it into Castiel’s tender skin.  
  
“Thank you for today.” Dean’s voice, though quiet, seems so loud in the peaceful atmosphere of their bedroom.  
  
“No need to thank, Dean. I wanted to make today special for you,” Castiel tells him.  
  
Dean snorts. “You got us a chef’s table at one of the best steak houses in town. I think that’s grounds for a thank you.”  
  
“Even if we didn’t get to the real dessert?”  
  
Dean’s breath tickles Castiel’s neck as he laughs. “You’re the best present and dessert I could ask for. The whipped cream was just a bonus, really.”  
  
Castiel smiles to himself. “I’m glad you’re happy.”  
  
A soft kiss is pressed to the back of his neck as Dean’s thumbs work themselves against Castiel’s shoulder blades. “Of course I am.”  
  
He hums in contentment. “Me too.”  
  
They fall into comfortable silence as Dean slowly massages Castiel’s body, making sure to pay special attention to his wrists and shoulders since they got the most stress of today’s scene – besides his ass, that is. Castiel lets his body go limp against Dean’s, exhaustion enveloping him warmly. Dean’s touch and occasional kisses lull him into a twilight state of consciousness, on the verge of sleep but still vaguely aware. He only cracks open his eyes when Dean’s done with his massaging to help him adjust their bodies so they’re laying side by side.  
  
The tealight candles scattered around the room have all burned out by now, leaving them in darkness save for one lone, flickering flame that’ll surely plunge them into darkness soon enough. Dean pulls the covers up while Castiel snuggles their bodies close together. Through a blissful haze, Castiel seeks out his husband’s lips to give a sleepy but tender kiss, which Dean melts into.  
  
“I love you,” he mumbles against his lips.  
  
Dean grins as he presses forward in another soft kiss. “I love you too, Cas.”  
  
Castiel’s heart flutters the way it does every time Dean says those words to him.  
  
“Happy birthday, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heh..  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


End file.
